Perfect is the Enemy of the Good: Why I’m Giving Pope Leo a Chance

“We have a Pope!” my mother, a lifelong and devoted Catholic, texted me at 12:13 p.m. ET on Thursday.

I was in the middle of teaching a course when I caught a glimpse of her text. My heart skipped with excitement.

The formal announcement of Robert Prevost as Pope Leo XIV happened over my official 1 to 2 p.m. lunch break. Watching the pageantry of it all in real time was thrilling—just as it was the two other times I watched this process, when Popes Benedict and Francis were elected.

I briefly wondered whether those who follow my work, especially LGBTQ+ individuals or survivors of sexual abuse, would feel disappointed by my excitement and, more broadly, by my continued connection to the Catholic Church that shaped me. I’ve certainly criticized the Church and the many devout people who have done terrible things in its name or in attempts to protect it.

Some would say I have a chip on my shoulder—or at least a deep resentment toward the church. As a queer person and a survivor of abuse myself, I would argue that such resentment is natural.

And yet, even as an interfaith seminarian and ecumenical person who claims no allegiance to any single church, the Catholic Church is still my home tradition. Not only do I care about it—I’ve never let anyone tell me I don’t belong there, even as I moved away from being the “good Catholic girl” so many people in my life wanted me to be.

As a queer person, a survivor of abuse, and an advocate for bodily autonomy and the rights of women and trans individuals, I approach our new pope, Leo XIV, with a healthy dose of skepticism. I didn’t expect someone aligned with my progressive ideals to be elevated this time around. That kind of candidate doesn’t exist in the College of Cardinals as we know it.

At best, I hoped for someone like Pope Francis—someone committed to bridge-building as much as possible within the constraints of church teaching and tradition. From what I’ve read about Pope Leo XIV, we may have at least that.

One of my favorite sayings—commonly attributed to Voltaire—has been spinning in my head since Pope Leo’s election, especially as I’ve read criticism (much of which I agree with) about his record on supporting victims of sexual abuse and LGBTQ+ people: Perfect is the enemy of the good.

Pope Leo clearly isn’t the perfect person to champion the causes I and so many others care about. But I don’t believe such a person currently exists within the church’s current hierarchical structure.

And while some who fight for justice may now be canceling me or calling me a sellout as they chant “burn it all down,” my response is: Let’s give Pope Leo a chance. Let’s see what he does with the power now entrusted to him.

Pope Francis, Leo’s predecessor, took plenty of heat from conservative Catholics—especially in Donald Trump’s America—for caring about the environment and the plight of refugees and immigrants. Knowing how hard it is to stand up to conservative pressure, I don’t take Francis’ efforts lightly.

Pope Francis represented a step toward reform, a move toward a church that is not so awful to the people it serves. And I’m glad that the College of Cardinals, through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, didn’t take us back to someone even more rigid and out of touch with how real people live.

Also, in celebrating the good of what just happened, we should consider the statement the College of Cardinals made in who they chose: an American-born cardinal who, in the past year, has publicly criticized Donald Trump and Sen. J.D. Vance for their lack of charity and compassion.

It’s clear that Pope Leo XIV is not a typical American. He spent much of his career in the global south and is also a Peruvian citizen.

Choosing to give his first public address in Spanish rather than English was a meaningful gesture. So was having two women proclaim the Old and New Testament readings during his first papal Mass. (He’s already catching hell for that from traditionalist Catholics.)

In my view, the election of Robert Prevost—an American who seems genuinely concerned about the rise of fascism in his home country—is bold. It also sends a clear message to both Trump and Vance, a recent Catholic convert: The global Church is watching.

Though I am a globalist and also hold dual citizenship with another country (Croatia), I am fiercely proud to be an American. I love the country of my birth and honor the love that my immigrant great-grandparents and their children, the grandparents who helped to raise me, had for this imperfect place that they made their home. So, having the privilege of seeing the first American Pope come out to greet the city and the world in real-time filled me with shakes and smiles.

So many times in my life, I heard there would never, could never be an American Pope. Watching it happen is something I will never forget

And especially in the America we now find ourselves in, may the American chosen by the College of Cardinals, through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, serve as a beacon of hope and decency for us all.